amen, amen | enjoltaire

Enjolras woke up alone the next day. The empty space beside him was cold. Grantaire had been gone for some time. He couldn't help but feel a little sad. Despite his better nature telling him it was a stupid thing to be worried about, he kept thinking that maybe Grantaire had regretted the night before and ran away. He wasn't sure where Grantaire would even go- they both lived here, and he'd have to come back eventually for his stuff.

That didn't stop him fretting. 

He decided to do something productive to get his mind off of Grantaire's possible relocation to Switzerland. He got up, threw on the first clothes he saw, and began work on cleaning the house. 

He began in the kitchen, which was eternally messy due to Gavroche being adamant that he could make his own meals now. He was a short kid, and could barely reach the tap to get his own glass of water. This created a lot of mess when he inevitably dropped and spilled things everywhere. Enjolras was surprised he hadn't set the kitchen on fire at least once.

He wiped down the surfaces, putting away left out ingredients, binning rubbish, and moving dirty dishes to the sink. He had the radio on in the background, and it was relaxing to hum along as he worked. Nobody else was home, Ép being at work and the kids at school, and it was peaceful. He felt much more relaxed than he had yesterday- the events of that afternoon and evening had made him happy and content. Grantaire's absence was worrying, but he wasn't thinking about that right now. 

When the kitchen was clean, he migrated to the living room. This was another problem room, as the kids did their homework in here and spent most of their time in here. The blanket had been pulled off of the back of the sofa. That was the first thing Enjolras fixed, folding it back up and laying it gently over the backrest. He fixed the cushions, moving them back to where they were suppoesd to be as opposed to the haphazard scatter that had been created by him and Grantaire sleeping on top of them. 

There were toys littering the floor, which Enjolras moved back up to Gavroche's room. He neatened up the homework and pencils that had been left on the coffee table, too. Putting everything back in order was comforting. He knew that once everyone came home it'd be ruined again, but he didn't really mind. For now, it was nice. 

He'd finished the living room and was taking a break sitting on the sofa when he heard the front door open. He jumped up, and was relieved to see Grantaire walk into the house.

Holding a bouquet of flowers.

"Oh! You're awake," he said upon seeing Enjolras, a grin on his face. "I thought you were still asleep,"

"Yeah," Enjolras said, "I was but then I woke up, I thought you'd... run away, or something."

"Why would I run away?" Grantaire said, walking over to Enjolras and taking one of his hands in his own, "when I have everything I want here?"

Enjolras could feel himself melt at those words. It took a surprising amount of effort to stay standing, and his cheeks were heating up. 

"These are for you," Grantaire said, bringing the flowers between them. "I wanted to get you something nice and I thought, flowers are normal... but then I thought maybe you wouldn't want flowers because they'd been cut from their roots and were dying plants, so I got a bouquet of fake flowers..."  Enjolras looked down at the flowers, and sure enough, they were made of paper. They were beautiful and realistic, and he wouldn't have been able to tell they were fake if he wasn't looking at them so closely. 

"Thank you," Enjolras said, taking them in his spare hand. He was incredibly flustered, and had no idea what he should say. Nobody had ever bought him flowers before, fake or not. He didn't quite know the etiquette for receiving them.